“What’s going on?” Maverick suddenly towered over my shoulder.
“Oh.” I backed away from the door like it burned me. “I heard music coming from that room, and then the door just slammed closed—”
“That room hasn't been opened in decades.”
“Decades? That’s not possible, it was just open. There was violin music—”
Maverick’s face was taut with annoyance before he shoved a hand into the pocket of his jeans and plucked out a key. He shoved it into the lock, jiggling it easily and then opening it freely.
“See?”
He stepped aside, allowing me entry to the empty room.
“But…” I frowned, moonlight bouncing off the window at different angles and giving the room a wall of mirrors effect. “The music?”
I turned, Maverick standing at the doorway, arms crossed and assessing me shrewdly. “Are you fucking with me on purpose?”
“No, I would never—”
“You said the door was open, clearly that was a lie.”
“It was, and I did hear music, and see—” I pointed across the room to one of the sheer white curtains dancing in the breeze— “That window, who opened it if the door was locked?”
I could see Maverick’s jaw grind to a halt, eyes crossing the room to take in the curtain. “The window isn’t open.” He crossed the room in long strides. “It’s the forced air heating system.” He turned his eyes to me, staring me down as he closed the distance between us. “Does anyone ever tell you you’re dramatic, Petal?”
The next thing I knew, the roughened pads of his fingers caught my chin, pulling my gaze up to his. I felt like a petulant child. I hated him completely at that moment.
“Stop calling me that.”
One side of his grin cracked.
I inhaled deeply. Leather and pine, rain and evergreen. His scent melted my knees.
“I should walk home.” I didn’t mean it, even though every fiber of me did.
His barrel of a laugh echoed through the room.
A cloud shadowed the moonlight then, forcing the room into sudden and complete darkness. On instinct, I leaned against him.
His body stiffened, muscles rigid, before he grasped my elbows and pushed me off of his body like I’d singed his skin.
“Sorry.” I tripped over the syllables.
He only grunted in reply, forcing me forward through the darkness, escorting me out and then closing the door behind us. “You want water or anything before bed?”
I shook my head, grateful when the cloud passed literally and the moonlight washed over the hard angles of Maverick’s jaw.
He was so beautiful it was painful.
And he seemed in pain, the way he held his spine like steel and forearms like marble—I was more intrigued than I’d ever been.
“This entire day has been a nightmare,” I confessed out loud.
“That’s the truest thing I’ve heard all day.”
A nervous laugh fell over me, and then a hum of pleasure rushed through me when his palm hovered at the base of my back, escorting me across the loft and back to his bedroom.
His bedroom.
